


King and Lionheart

by B52



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 22:23:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17795858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B52/pseuds/B52
Summary: B-52 has never been tasked with preparing a Valentine's Day gift before. Relationships are all new to him, and at times that can be terrifying.Somehow, though, he knows exactly what to give Brownie.





	King and Lionheart

Valentine’s Day. A day to celebrate the love one held for others and the love one received in return, a day to express the depths of one’s feelings, a day to spend with the most cherished people in one’s life. What a wonderful concept. It meant absolutely nothing to B-52.

Maybe that wasn’t true, though, he thought, idly turning the two boxes he held over and over. They’d been wrapped by clumsy hands, hands he didn’t have complete control over, hands that felt too large and clunky and disconnected from him half the time—but the wrapping paper still glittered in the sunlight coming through the window, and he thought it was okay for it not to be perfect. He had never been perfect. He had never been the perfect machine he was expected to be, and many times he had watched lovers amble along the street hand-in-hand and wondered how that would feel. That was then—things were different now. Now he didn’t have to wonder anymore.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure pass through the doorway, and he looked up, his breath catching in his throat. There stood Brownie, smiling at him with that soft smile he’d come to know so well—the smile that spoke a thousand words, the smile that wrapped around him and softened every edge the world could hold, the smile that had saved his life. B-52 took a shaky breath as Brownie came toward him and sank into the couch next to him, leaning on B-52 to peer at the presents in his hands. The gift he’d painstakingly prepared was perfect, he knew it; he could only hope Brownie would share that sentiment.

“Would it be presumptuous to ask if those are for me?” Brownie asked, his voice light. B-52 could recognize by now that he was teasing.

“Who else?” It came out tremulous, and B-52 swallowed hard.

Brownie furrowed his brows in concern. “Are you nervous? B, regardless of what you’ve gotten me, I’m going to love it—”

“Here,” he said, handing Brownie the smaller package. “I—I’m sorry about the wrapping paper.”

Brownie chuckled in that half-exasperated, half-fond way—he’d explained it once, told B-52 that he never quite knew how to respond to B-52’s lack of confidence, because he was so incredible in Brownie’s eyes and it was difficult to believe B-52 couldn’t see himself the same way. B-52 had held that compliment close for years. He wasn’t sure Brownie remembered saying it. B-52 doubted he could ever forget.

“There’s no need to apologize,” Brownie said. “I’m going to tear it anyway, so it doesn’t matter, really. It’s the thought that counts.”

True to his word, he tore off the wrapping paper, though of course he did it in his usual elegant way, so it looked far more graceful than the word “tear” might have suggested. He slid the lid off the little cardboard box and his face lit up, and B-52’s heart skipped a beat or two.

“I hope you—”

“Oh, B-52!” Brownie pulled off his gloves, worn with use as they were, and donned the pristine white gloves B-52 had bought. “I’ve been meaning to get new gloves for so long, and I’ve never gotten around to it. I didn’t know you’d noticed. That’s very thoughtful, B, thank you so much.”

“I’m really glad you like it,” B-52 said, though the tightness in his chest didn’t cease. On the contrary, his breathing grew more strained, and his stomach began to churn. “Um, I… I have another gift.”

“Is that so?” Brownie laughed again, soft and lovely. “One gift is more than enough, love, you didn’t have to spend so much time on me.”

“Well, I, um…” B-52’s palms grew clammy. He couldn’t quite understand why he was so anxious. For some reason, the idea of Brownie not enjoying his gift terrified him—maybe because he’d worked so hard on it, and he’d been so passionate about it, and he’d be absolutely destroyed if Brownie was disappointed.

“Yes?” Brownie prompted, tilting his head. “It’s alright, B. As I said, I’ll love anything you’ve gotten me.”

“I made it,” B-52 said. “I—I worked… really, really, really hard on it. I, um… it’s kind of silly, but—but… I, um, I hope you like it.”

He thrust the second package at Brownie, and as Brownie opened it B-52 stared at the carpet beneath them, unwilling to see Brownie’s expression. There was a beat of silence. Then a gasp, and then—

“Oh my god, B!” Brownie’s voice trembled, and B-52 turned his head just in time to watch Brownie throw his arms around B-52 and squeeze the life out of him. “This—this is beautiful! You made this?”

“Mhm.” He retrieved the gift from Brownie’s hand and set it on his head. “It’s not real gold, of course, it’s just gold-painted wire, but… but yeah, I made it. It took, um, awhile.”

Brownie looked up at him, and something inside B-52 clicked then, and all he could think was, _this is exactly, exactly where I’m meant to be._ Looking at Brownie—his smile radiant, eyes shining with tears, and the crown atop his head glittering golden in the light, brilliant and intricate and so carefully crafted—B-52 knew. This was home. This was heaven.

“I can hardly believe it.” Brownie pressed his face to B-52’s chest, and B-52 knew it was an attempt to hide that he was almost crying. “This is beautiful. I’m—I can’t believe you made this just for me, B.”

“It was hard,” B-52 said, then giggled helplessly, because despite all his qualms and doubts and anxiety Brownie loved it—of course Brownie loved it, when had Brownie ever, ever been disappointed in him?

“If I might ask, though—” Brownie pulled back, sniffling. “Why a crown?”

It gave B-52 pause. Why a crown, indeed? Brownie wasn’t any sort of royalty, and yet—B-52 couldn’t help but smile to himself. If he had to name one person who was a reliable leader, who cared for all those around him and was ever-attentive, who B-52 would follow to the ends of the earth without question, it would be Brownie. His days with Spaghetti made for a stark contrast. No matter how fancily Spaghetti dressed up, it would never make him a true royal.

“You’re my king,” B-52 said simply.

Brownie kissed him without hesitation, and B-52’s heart was as full as it had ever been. Valentine’s Day, he thought, truly was a day worthy of attention. This moment—the crown glowing on Brownie’s head, and Brownie himself glowing brighter than any gold could—this moment meant absolutely everything to him.


End file.
